Effa was bright and alert from the moment he walked in. She didn’t pretend to be senile or mentally ill or whatever she’d been doing this whole time.

She smirked, her eyes dancing, though she didn’t get up from her chair. Her dress, her skin, and the house were filthy. A rotting queen on a putrid throne.

Micah followed Brin in, eyes downcast like always. He poured a drink for Effa in a dirty glass, placed it in her hand, and then turned around to leave.

He paused at the door. “We would have done anything for her. Do you understand?”

“I’m beginning to,” said Brin.

Alert! [Call Sound through Glass] leveled up! 7 -> 8